


No Glory

by Nerdylittleangelenthusiast (Anderseeds)



Series: Supernatural Works [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Casifer, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Mind Manipulation, Rough Oral Sex, Season 11, Top Lucifer (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28140375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anderseeds/pseuds/Nerdylittleangelenthusiast
Summary: What wonders a mental lobotomy could do. (S11, Casifer).
Relationships: Castiel/Lucifer (Supernatural)
Series: Supernatural Works [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068692
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	No Glory

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray back into Supernatural after many, many years, and my old hat of Castiel porn and whump seemed like a good way to jump back in! I welcome any feedback.
> 
> I also have another Casifer/Lustiel fic I'm currently editing that's a little over 11k. Lucifer is nicer in that one! It might take me a while to finish editing though. I usually do about three read throughs.

Quiet. Compliant. What wonders a mental lobotomy could do.

It hadn't been easy to lobotomise as wilful a creature as Castiel. Lucifer had needed to spend a considerable amount of time pummelling his various mental barriers and tearing his fingers into the fractures he created, turning them into chasms he could slither in through. Castiel had tried to repel him all the while, but the man needed Lucifer, couldn't toss him out, and so Lucifer had eventually invaded the most private recesses of his mind and rearranged them until Castiel was something soft and malleable. He could have torn him apart while in here. Tortured him until he unravelled under Lucifer's skilful fingers- but rearranging Castiel was much more effective than picking Castiel apart through torture, and it wasn’t as though he had the time to enjoy the process even if he’d been inclined. 

So quiet and compliant it was.

He left Castiel alone, for the most part. Didn’t want to rock the boat too much, least it occur to Castiel to evict him. The man was kept busy by the television in his retreat, which Lucifer had playing soothing messages on repeat. Usually variations of ‘everything is going to be alright’, but he did throw in the occasional yoga class and ‘have you submitted to YOUR elder today?’ for variety.

When he wasn’t leaving Castiel alone, he took on the role of doting elder brother to ease any resistance his presence might generate. It was always risky, going to see Castiel, but the rewards of having Castiel soft and pliant in his grip were too lovely to forfeit. Not that he particularly minded Castiel’s spunk; the little guy had guts, and he could respect that even if having it directed at him was a source of irritation. He just preferred this _more_.

“Have you been enjoying your programs, Castiel?” he asked during one of his visits, reaching out to skate his fingers along Castiel’s jaw. Something that would have prompted Castiel to jolt away just a few weeks prior, but now only had Castiel regard him warily. He hadn’t been able to completely snuff out the animosity, but he’d deprived Castiel of the passion behind it.

“They’re… comforting,” said Castiel, glancing back at the television now playing a carefully constructed episode of Dr. Phil.

“That’s what I like to hear,” said Lucifer, offering an uncharacteristically gentle smile. “You can get back to them shortly. I just want you to do something for me first.”

There was only a moments pause before Castiel responded. His periods of hesitation were getting shorter. Given a few more weeks of work, Lucifer didn’t expect there would be any hesitation at all.

“Fine.”

“Oh no,” said Lucifer, raising a finger and flicking it from side to side, like a chastising elder brother. “That’s not what we say. I’ve taught you the proper response to my requests.”

Castiel sighed, the sound uncharacteristically dull. “As you wish, Lucifer.”

“Much better.”

He closed his fingers over Castiel’s shoulders and the man obediently dropped to his knees. He had to complement Castiel’s choice of vessel: he’d chosen a pretty little number. Long lashes, soft hair, full lips, big blue eyes, and an impeccably crafted body beneath all those layers. It was still nothing compared to Castiel's true form, but he was nice to look at nonetheless, and by now, Lucifer knew his meat suit felt as good as it looked. 

Once Castiel was kneeling at his feet, he slid his fingers into Castiel’s hair and skated his nails over his scalp, smiling when Castiel shivered under his touch. He pet him not like a mutt, as he had Crowley, but gently, with affection. He did love his little brothers despite their hostility toward him. It was a tragedy every time they forced his hand and made him hurt or kill them, and Castiel was a terrible tragedy, being someone who shared Lucifer’s rebellious nature and yet prioritised a couple of barely sapient mud monkeys over his own kind. His loyalty to the Winchester’s, and particularly Dean was so fierce that Lucifer would have delighted in having it for himself; he’d always been a covetous creature… but it wasn’t his, and it would never be his, and that was embittering.

The most embittering part of Castiel aligning with the Winchester’s was that they had _broken_ him. He’d been so full of strength and conviction when they’d last spoken, and now he was a collection of shards with edges too-dulled to fit back together, and what little he’d managed to re-construct of himself couldn’t contain the vastness of his self-loathing and fear. Had he asked Castiel to submit to him before all the Winchester’s had subjected him to, he would have refused. He never would have let Lucifer in. It was convenient for him that Castiel now had vulnerabilities he could exploit, but still disappointing that such a proud creature had been brought so low through his instance on serving the humans. Lucifer would have treated him well. He would have let the boy command his armies, put that tenacity to good use. He would have made such a wonderful soldier.

But hey, at least being brought this low made Castiel a serviceable place to put his cock.

His fingers journeyed down Castiel’s face, sliding over his cheek and jaw before coming to rest on his lips. There was no resistance when he pried Castiel’s mouth open. He remained still and pliant while Lucifer reached in with a thumb, pinching his nail against the flat of Castiel’s tongue and marvelling at the feeling of it. If there was one thing he could appreciate about his fathers creations, it was the warmth and wet and softness of them, sensations that were foreign in ones angelic form. Angels didn’t need to procreate, having been created by the same being, so they hadn’t the pleasure generating parts that humans did. No cock, no balls, no vagina, none of that fun stuff, and Lucifer had developed a propensity for human pleasures during his first venture in a vessel. People considered him the source of all sins of the flesh, so he might as well live up to the hype.

“Keep it open,” Lucifer murmured, working his trousers open and giving his half-hard cock a squeeze. He didn’t need to; he could get it hard with a thought, but he enjoyed the process. Castiel kept his mouth open, his half-lidded eyes gazing up at Lucifer with a pleasant sort of detachment. “That’s it.” He set the tip of his cock on Castiel’s bottom lip, moving his hand to cradle the back of Castiel’s head. “Everything was so much easier when people told you what to do, wasn’t it? I know you miss that, miss never having any doubts, never having any fears. I can _feel_ it.”

Lucifer’s cock sliding smoothly past Castiel’s lips deprived him of any answer he might have had. He sunk in slowly, taking care not to make Castiel violently gag. Not just yet, anyway.

“Well, once all the loose ends have been dealt with, it’ll just be you and me, kid, and I’ll be happy to fulfil that deep, desperate desire of yours to have certainty of your place in the world.”

Inch by delectable inch, Lucifer sunk into the wet heat of Castiel’s mouth, groaning at the intensity of the sensations, the way those lips seemed to peel back his skin and glide over the very essence of him. Receiving oral from a human was pleasant enough, but from a fellow angel, it was downright rapturous, a pleasure incomprehensible to any but their own kind, and it was even more so within the realm of Castiel's mind, where there was so little separating their graces.

Once fully sheathed, Castiel made soft, pitiable sounds around his girth and his dark eyelashes fluttered. With his cock as large as it was, lodged as deep as it was, a human would have been violently gagging as they asphyxiated on it; Lucifer knew that from experience, and this – the whimpering and trembling submission – was far more preferable. It’d taken some time to dull the gag reflex Castiel had inherited from his vessel, but it’d been well worth the effort. Hopefully it would persist once he’d vacated Castiel. He didn’t have the patience to teach him all over again.

He slowly slid out, watching Castiel swallow and shudder while trying to accommodate the significant of length his cock, then pushed right back in to the hilt. The tip of Castiel’s nose brushed his pelvis and he held Castiel there for a moment, languishing in that wet heat and moaning as it grazed at the edges of his grace.

“I could drag you out of the dark,” he whispered, hot and covetous. His desire always swelled when he had Castiel buried on his cock, became something uncontrollable and bestial. “I could save you. Take you away from the dead weight, away from that Dean Winchester.” Castiel twitched at Dean’s name, awareness flittering across his face, and Lucifer jerked punishingly against the back of his throat until he was whimpering again. “But you would never let me do it willingly,” he said, bitterly. “I can feel that too.”

He tightened his grip on the back of Castiel’s head and used it to keep him steady while he fucked into Castiel’s throat. Castiel’s eyes had turned wide, glassy, and Lucifer groaned at the sight of them, at that pretty vulnerability. It would have been nice to have had it extended willingly, but he’d take what he could get. He’d spent far too much time in isolation to be fussy about these things.

His free hand joined the one holding Castiel in place, providing further stability while he thrust – or jack-hammered, rather – into Castiel, so wonderfully deep Castiel wouldn’t have the standard choice of spitting when he reached his climax. He wasn’t far off. His body was beginning to fill with a rolling heat; his thighs were tensing; his thoughts were getting fuzzier, more disjointed, and his cock was twitching within the silky press of Castiel’s mouth. It was difficult to maintain focus while so close to the precipice, but he didn’t let his gaze stray from Castiel, watching those fluttering eyelashes and bright blue eyes and pink lips stretched around his cock. What lovely lips those were. Perpetually chapped, yet plush-soft around him.

“Cassstiel,” he said, elongating the word. “When I’m out of here I’m gonna – hnnff-“ His hips jerked involuntarily and his head swam. He was so close now that he was only faintly aware of his own voice. “I’ll keep you in- in my throne room, use you as a cock warmer. Have you swallow my cock right in front of people, sit on it while I’m on the job. You’ll forget what it was like not to have a cock in you. You’ll forget any other taste but my cock. You’ll be my personal little whore whose only concern is satisfying me in every conceivable way, and- fuck. _Fuck_.” His grip on Castiel tightened, tearing strands of hair from Castiel’s scalp, and if Castiel noticed, he was too busy trying to suck in breaths through his nose to offer any protest. “You’re going to worship me, Castiel. You’ll worship me, get down on your knees and blaspheme for your new God and-”

He wasn’t able to finish before a cry erupted from him, the sound so bellowing it could well have been heard beyond Castiel’s mind space. His hips jerked once, pressing Castiel flush to his pelvis, and then he spilled so much hot seed into Castiel’s gullet that the man choked briefly before managing to swallow it all. For one glorious moment Lucifer was submerged in a mindless bliss, his nerves singing and his head full of static, and he probably had a dull look on his face, but he didn’t care, not when this felt so damn good.

Usually he had a keen sense of the passage of time, but when awareness returned to him, he couldn’t have said how long had passed for the life of him. The aftershocks were steadily fading, reducing from a crescendo to a faint buzz. The heat on his skin slowly dissipated. Control re-instated itself. He took a deep breath, realised belatedly that he’d closed his eyes, and peeled them open to look down at Castiel, who remained kneeling obediently at his feet with Lucifer's cock still lodged deep in his throat. Were he not so dazed, that sight probably would have made Lucifer hard all over again.

Despite how much come he'd spilled, his cock was clean when he drew out of Castiel. Castiel had swallowed every drop. He tucked himself back into his trousers, taking his time with the zip and button before willing a chair behind him and sinking into it. It wasn't an especially comfortable chair, because apparently Castiel wasn’t creative enough to provide anything except standard kitchen chairs, but he’d just had an explosive, grace-shaking orgasm and he was in no mood to complain about it.

Castiel started to rise and was stopped when Lucifer raised a hand.

“Come here,” he said, and while Castiel looked a little put-upon by the request, he did shuffle his way over to Lucifer.

Lucifer cupped a hand around Castiel’s nape and guided Castiel’s head to his thigh, arranging him until he was resting comfortably there, like a dog with its owner. Perhaps he’d will a collar onto Castiel at some point. Break Castiel in before he vacated the vessel and put a real collar on him. Something suitably prissy, with ‘master’ engraved in enochian. Yes, that’s what he would do.

“Castiel,” he said, smiling in the afterglow. “How are you feeling after that?”

Castiel closed his eyes, silent for a long moment. “Unhappy,” he said, which was far better than the answer Lucifer had received the first time around. “But it’s fine. It’s fine.” He took a heavy breath and intoned: “Everything is going to be alright.”

“Yes, it is.” Lucifer closed his palm over Castiel’s scalp and gently threaded his fingers into his hair. “It took you some time to come around, so I’m glad to hear it.”

Castiel gave a barely perceptible nod of his head, cheek shifting against Lucifer’s thigh. He was so passive, so well-behaved.

Lucifer probed at the recesses of Castiel’s mind as they sat there, searching for the part of Castiel he’d shoved into a quiet corner and- ah! There it was, a screaming, writhing part of Castiel full of abject horror at what Lucifer was doing, and yet profoundly aware of his helplessness. There was no Winchester to drag him free of Lucifer’s influence here. Just the two of them and a quite room in which Lucifer could reshape Castiel to his liking.

Lucifer smiled and bent, his mouth by Castiel’s ear.

“You wanted to play the martyr, Castiel,” he whispered, his words licking across that fluttering, fading part of Castiel. “You should have known there would be no glory in it.”


End file.
